Skins of Change
by Sid the Odd One
Summary: An eagle discovers that she is a skin-changer, and learns that her life spent in Arda isn't the only life she's had. Rated M for violence/gruesome content.
1. Chapter 1

First Test 

The sun was level with the horizon, bathing Arda in an orange-red haze. The two eaglets rested together in the nest, waiting for Eagle Father to bring them food. Eagle Mother gazed at the last speckled egg, anxiously awaiting for it to hatch, for her last eaglet to enter Arda. The egg twitched, a testimony that the body inside was not still born, a fear that was present the day it was laid. It was only three days after the initial laying did Eagle Mother know this young one was not lost.

But even now, Eagle Mother could not help but sense that this last, small egg might not survive. The chick broke free from the tough shell, and gave it's first weak cry. Eagle Father finally arrived to the edge of the cliff, a limp, bloody deer in his massive beak. The older chicks began to screech excitedly. Eagle Mother cast a long glace at the young chick. It - she - lay on her side gasping. Her pale yellow eyes were half shut. Eagle Mother turned away, knowing better than to show emotion in front of her family. She would mourn later. The first test of survival for every eagle was to survive the leaving of the egg with no assistance. There was a shuddering sigh, then silence. Eagle Mother shifted her feet as she watched the sun set.

Many eaglets had come and gone, but there were few that didn't survive. The Lord of the Air gives and takes - Eagle Mother knew this, but the passing of her own young never dulled, and always gave reason to grieve. Eagle Father looked at her, a sad glint in his eyes, but then gave a quiet, yet excited chirp. His feathers puffed up in pride, and Eagle Mother turned to see the little eaglet stagger towards the deer. The eaglet hungrily tore into the carcass. All was well until she came close to where the eldest eaglet was eating. The eldest squawked in protest in this breach of territory. She flapped in her wings as a sign of warning. Clearly, she enjoyed her position as oldest and strongest.

There was a pause. Pleased with herself, the eldest bent down to resume eating. There was a sharp enhale, and the youngest let out the loudest, piercing shriek Eagle Mother had ever heard. The youngest pounced upon the elder's "territory" and snapped up a choice morsel of meat. The eldest and middle were startled at the outburst, but bothered the youngest no more as they ate.

Strength was critical in the world of the eagle. The weak had no place in it; only the strong survived. While the youngest had passed the first test, but there would be more times to prove her strength.


	2. Chapter 2

Flight Test

As customary, once the last egg hatched, names were given. The oldest laid was named Armoth, the middle laid Dínen, and the youngest laid, Meneldor. Many of their first days were spent in large nest with Mother, awaiting for Father to bring them food. Mother told them tales of Arda. Battles fought against evil, and the other creatures who inhabited Arda with them. These days were the most quiet, as the eaglets would listen to Mother with wide, yellow eyes. The few months that passed proved that the quiet days were gone as the eaglets learned to talk.

One cool evening, Mother had finished telling the eaglets a tale of their great ancestor, Thorondor, the Lord of the Eagles. Armoth and Meneldor asked for another tale, but Dínen was silent.

"Dínen?" Mother. "What would you like to hear?" Dínen looked up at her.

"An answer." She said solemnly. "Orcs love pain, and nothing. Elves hate orcs, but love others and nature. What do eagles love?" Surprised at the unexpected question, Mother didn't answer right away, instead pondering her answer. Father landed upon the ledge, a deer in tow. Now old and strong enough, Armoth and Meneldor hopped out of the nest, and waddled to the deer. But Dínen stayed, staring expectantly at Mother. Mother bend low, eye to eye with her daughter.

"Eagles love their family." she said. "Eagles love the wind that Manwe gives to us, and the gift of flight." Mother paused, and asked, "What do you love?" There was a pause.

"I love Mother." Dínen replied, She glanced over to Magesul and Armoth, who were feasting on the deer. "And I love meat." With that, Dínen toddled out of the nest and began to eat. Mother shook her head in amusement, and left to nourish herself.

The eagles grew at a rapid pace. Within the year, their down feathers were shed and skittered away in the high winds. The day would soon come when they would learn how to fly. In all this, the eaglets personalities grew. Armoth was good and kind to her younger siblings, a leader at best, but a force to be reckoned with when pushed. Meneldor showed an intelligence much like his Father, and would study anything and everything, learning quickly and without mistake. Dínen was fierce when the time called for it, but otherwise was the most quiet. She gave into her emotions more than her siblings, and possibly more so than the other eaglets in the clan. Even so, it was not uncommon, and Dínen was taught the ways of the eagle, and how to show no emotion unless in private. Despite her show of emotions, Dínen was taught well and for the most part, learned to keep her emotions to herself.

The day came when the eaglets were to learn how to fly. Other eagle mothers were pushing their young out of the nests. Mother looked at her children. Armoth and Meneldor were watching their friends drop, then float up and away, carried by the wind. Dínen was at the edge, looking down. Without warning, Mother pushed the three out of the nest.

Amidst the annoyed screeches and surprised shrieks, above the din rose a scream of terror, that turned the heads of all grown eagles to search for the source. Mother launched herself in the air, knowing full well who it was. Below her, Mother could see Dínen furiously flapping her wings, still screaming, her beak wide open. Mother's shadow came over Dínen, who looked up. The screaming abruptly stopped, and Dínen flapped even harder to reach Mother. She opened her beak and let out another scream, but this time, it was angry. Mother could hear what she was saying, and permitted herself a tired sigh.

"No!" Dínen said. "No!" Mother smoothly dropped down in the air beside Dínen.

"Calm down." She said coolly. Dínen struggled against the current. She stopped screaming.

"Why?" Dinsul demanded. She continued to flap her wings clumsily. "Why did you push me?"

"To teach you." Mother replied, without a hint of emotion. "Keep your wings still. Let the air move you."

"No!" Dínen shrieked again. "I will learn myself!" Before Mother could say another word, Dínen tucked her winds close to her body and dropped, screaming in anger and defiance as she did so.

Mother stared down for a moment. "Armoth, Meneldor. Go back to the nest." She said. Armoth and Meneldor, who had watched the entire exchange, flapped away slowly, their eyes wide in surprise at Dínen's outburst. Their Mother tucked in her own wings and down she went.

Mother dropped straight down, her sharp eyes roving about. There - Dínen dove through the fog like a rock. Mother followed, and broke through the fog to see Dínen all but crash into a creek. Landing on the bank, Mother watched as Dínen surfaced, letting out gurgled squawks. She managed to drift by a log, and clung to it as she struggled to get out of the water. Dínen ignored her mother's hard gaze. Finally, Dínen reached the bank, dripping wet and angrier than ever. She let out a loud shriek at Mother, who did nothing. Instead, she bent down until she was eye to eye with Dínen , and their beaks were touching. Mother stared at Dínen , not even blinking. It wasn't a mere gaze; it was a dare. After a heavy pause, Dínen looked away, unable to hold eye contact.

Still silent, Mother got up, and flew away, leaving Dínen to ponder her actions by the creek. Dínen watched her Mother fade into the fog, and tilted her head to the side, confused. There was only the sound of water burbling by, and the occasional "plips" made by fish rising to the surface. Dínen realized her actions, and felt a wave of confusion and shame. She harrumphed, still angry, and glared at the creek. A fish, a large, silver fish, launched itself out of the water to snap up a careless insect that was buzzing along the surface of the water.

_I knew why Mother pushed me._ She thought, watching the fish swim in lazy circles. _It was to teach me, but I was not expecting it. That was what angered me._ Dínen stretched out her wings and flapped them, beads of water rolling off her wings. The fog began to clear, and the sun peeked through. The fish lept out of the water again, it's scales catching the light. Dínen stared at it as it landed back in the water with a loud splash. An idea growing inside her head, Dínen got up and started beating her wings with an excited chirp.

The afternoon passed into evening, and back at the nest, the parents were talking with one another.

"Surprise and fear is common for the first flight." Father remarked. "But anger isn't. I understand why, but her anger was strong." Mother nodded in agreement.

"Dínen will learn, but she must learn to control herself. " She replied as Father preened his feathers.

"Here is Dínen now." Out in the open, Dínen was flying towards them, but struggling. She was bobbing back and forth, something large in her beak. With a huff, she landed on the ledge with a large, dead fish, which was almost as long as her. Father and Mother said nothing as Dínen all but dragged the fish and stopped in front of Mother. She looked up at Mother and said nothing, but the silence spoke more than any words uttered.

The wind was whistling above their heads, filling the heavy pause. The fish's dead eye stared at Mother. Dínen stared at Mother, almost pleadingly, desperate to have her forgiveness. Slowly, Mother bent down and swallowed the fish whole. In a rare gesture of emotion, she lovingly nudged Dínen, their beaks together like an embrace. It lasted barely a moment, and Dínen then waddled away, forgiven.

Within a few days, the eaglets had learned to not fear the air or space below them. The three eaglets often went out all together, squawking loudly and enjoying each others' company.


End file.
